There was a long silence. Greg bit his lip. Wherever his father had gone, he had not lingered here. The silence thickened around them. He could feel the skin on the nape of his neck p.r.i.c.kling.

There was a presence in the room. But it was not his father. It was a female presence. Greg shivered, staring round. Claudia. He could sense her near him, the woman in blue, the woman whose image he had so often conjured up with pencil and brush. *Claudia's here. Speak to her.' He seized his mother's arm. *Go on. Tell her we mean to find the truth. Tell her we will avenge her.'

*Greg a '

*Go on!' He turned round slowly himself, as if expecting to see the woman somewhere concealed in a corner. *Do you hear me, Lady Claudia? We are going to learn the truth about your death. That's what you want, isn't it? That's what this is all about.' He paused, panting, half expecting to hear a voice answering his, but the only response came from the wind. *Claudia!' He shouted the name again.

Surely he could smell it: the jasmine scent she wore.

And something else.

Tobacco.

He bit his lip with a glance at his mother. Had she smelt it too? It was two years since his father had given up smoking a the day his cancer had been diagnosed a but suddenly he could smell his tobacco in the room. Was he here, after all, fighting for them as he had promised or was it wishful thinking, this strange blend of scents? Ashamed at the sudden tears in his eyes he moved a few paces towards the window and looked out, trying to control his emotions.

In the s.p.a.ce of an hour the scene out there had changed. The snow had turned to rain. The garden, so recently locked in a brittle, short-lived frame of ice had become a living, dripping sea of water. From trees and bushes the soft snow slid in lumps or melted as he watched, desperately trying to swallow his tears. The rain, sliding down the window was carrying the premature winter away with it as swiftly as it had come. The flowers of winter jasmine had freed themselves from a frosting of ice and drooped, yellow and orange from slender green stems.

Somehow he managed to get a grip on himself.

He was turning back towards Diana when out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement in the trees. He stiffened, a shot of adrenalin flooding through his stomach. Marcus? Claudia? His father? He waited, holding his breath.

His relief when he saw the small group of figures emerge from the trees, carrying between them what looked like a stretcher, was enormous. *It's Kate and Paddy,' he called, trying to keep his voice steady. He limped to the door and, fighting the bolts, he pulled it open. The blast of cold air carried the sweet, clean smell of melt water before it, as the soaked, exhausted figures staggered across the lawn. He did not question who the two unknown men were as they trooped in; enough that they were all safe.

He stared down at his sister's face and he grew cold, his relief stillborn.

*What happened, Kate?' He looked up and met her eyes.

*We found her at the grave again,' she said wearily. *Marcus had her.' She flung herself down on the sofa beside Anne who had collapsed there as soon as she walked in. It was only then that she saw Susie lying in front of the fire. *Oh no?' Her plea turned to a sob.

*They'll be all right.' Diana was cradling Alison's head against her breast, kneeling beside the stretcher where Pete and Jon had lowered it to the floor. Behind them Paddy bolted the front door again and then subsided where he was onto the mat, sliding down to sit with his back against the wall, staring into s.p.a.ce. He had reached the limits of his endurance.

Blowing on his freezing fingers Jon went quietly over to stand behind Kate and put his hands on her shoulders. It was a rea.s.suring gesture and she leaned back, grateful for his strength. Raising her eyes wearily she found Greg staring at her. His white face was stiff with shock.

*This is Jon Bevan, Greg,' she said slowly, beginning to grapple with the zip on her wet jacket. *He and Pete came to look for us. They went straight to the cottage. They found Allie.'

*Jon Bevan?' Claudia, Marcus, even his father were forgotten as Greg, oblivious suddenly of everyone else in the room, focussed his attention on Jon's face. *The poet?'

*That's right.' Jon stepped round the sofa and held out his hand.

Greg stared at it. He did not make any attempt to take it. *So, you've come to play ghostbusters with us, have you?' he said coldly. *And what are your qualifications for sending Marcus Severus Secundus back to the h.e.l.l he surely came from?'

Jon lowered his hand. Slowly he began to peel off his sodden jacket. *Perhaps a poet can communicate with the dead; I'm sure he can do it at least as well as a painter,' he replied stiffly. *We are supposed to speak a universal language which transcends the ages.'

*I thought you and Kate were finished,' Greg pressed. He was shaken by the sudden arrival of this man whom he had thought long gone from Kate's life.

*Greg!' His mother interrupted, her voice sharp with anxiety. *Help me with Allie! Quickly!' Alison's head had fallen back on Diana's arm and her eyes had rolled open.

Unnoticed by any of them the smell of tobacco in the room strengthened.

*Christ!' Greg helped his mother lower her to the floor. Bending low he put his ear to her mouth. *She's still breathing.' He swivelled to face Jon, his face growing hard again. *Well? What do we do, poet?'

Jon ignored him. He like the others, was staring down at the two girls lying near one another on the floor. Only the occasional terrified sob from Cissy punctuated the silence of the room. Diana's eyes had filled with tears. She was drained, too tired even to speak. With Alison's hand in hers she sat helplessly on the floor gazing at her daughter's face.

There was a long silence. Kate looked at Jon. She had not noticed the hostility between the two men, nor the electric atmosphere as the tension between them flared, but she could feel the cold in the room which was suddenly palpable. It was swirling clammily round them. He was there. He hadn't gone. She could feel the strength of the alien mind reaching out, the tendrils of anger and hatred threading through the air, feeding on the energy of hate.

*NO!'

She didn't realise she had cried out loud until she saw the others staring at her, their faces full of fear. *He's looking for someone else a '

*Fight him. Don't let your mind go empty. Fight him hard. Recite something. Concentrate.' Anne caught her arm. *Fight him. He's drained those two like ... batteries ...' She spluttered with anger. *And he needs energy from somewhere else. Fight him.' She looked round. *Where's Paddy?' Her voice sharpened with fear.

*Oh G.o.d! Don't let him have gone into the study! Don't let him have found his father a' There had been no chance to tell them Roger was dead, no way of breaking the news gently. Diana scrambled to her feet and pushing past Pete, she ran to the door. She stopped abruptly. Patrick was slumped against the wall in the pa.s.sage outside.

*Paddy! Her voice rose to a shriek. The boy opened his eyes. *Paddy. Are you all right?' Flinging herself down beside him she hugged him tightly.

He nodded vaguely. *Tired.' He could barely speak.

*Tired and very brave.' Jon had followed her out. He extended a hand to the boy. *He's OK.' You could tell from the eyes. Alison's blank stare did not compare with this blurred, sleepy moment of disorientation. *Come on, old chap. Stand up and come to the fire.' He smiled at Diana. *He's OK. I'm sure he's OK. Just exhausted.'

Diana nodded. Behind the door in the study Roger lay, cold, on the camp bed. She had to tell Patrick that his father had died. She had to tell the others. Tears filled her eyes but she said nothing as Jon helped Paddy through to the fire and lowered him into a chair. Now was not the moment. She couldn't face even talking about it. Not yet.

They all stood huddled together, looking round. A spatter of rain hit the window. From the icicle above the porch a steady chain of drips began to fall onto the step. Inside, the temperature was still dropping. They stared at one another.

Anne frowned. *He's still here. Looking for energy,' she whispered. *I can feel him.' She shuddered. *My G.o.d, I've never felt anything like this before.' She stared round at the frightened faces. *Concentrate. Fill your minds with something. Think hard. Recite poetry. Anything. Don't let him in. Recite! All of you together. Now. Something you all know. Quickly.'

For a moment the room was totally silent. Then Diana, her daughter's hand clutched in her own, began slowly to intone the words of a nursery rhyme. *The owl and the p.u.s.s.y cat went to sea, in a beautiful pea green boat ...'

With a shaky smile Cissy joined her and after a minute Pete joined in. *They took some honey and plenty of money wrapped up in a five pound note ...'

Was it their imagination or was the room growing less cold?

*Go on. It's working,' Anne whispered.

*Again. Again. Another.' Diana had screwed up her eyes as if she were praying. *Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and a '

They all felt the sudden easing of tension in the room.

*He's gone.' Greg's whisper cut them short.

There was a moment's silence.

As swiftly as it had come the cold prowling menace had left, and with it the strange, sudden, enigmatic smell of Roger's tobacco.

For the time being the encircling shadows were empty.

LXXI.

The police Land Rover slid and bucked down the track with Joe in the front between the two uniformed constables. Behind them Doctor Jamieson clung on for grim death to the back of the seats as they skidded through the increasingly wet slush. *Not far now.' Joe peered through the windscreen. *Down through those trees and we're there.

A gust of wind rocked the car sideways and the driver swore as he fought to keep it on the track. In front of them the radio crackled and spat with interference. The younger constable, Bob Garth, grinned at him, his face grey with fatigue. He had already been on duty for forty-eight hours. *You reckon your ghost will be waiting for us then, do you?'

Joe had told them the whole story as far as he knew it. It was greeted with solemn interest by the two policemen. The doctor, an old friend of the Farnboroughs', was more forthcoming. *If I didn't know you better, Joe, I'd tell them to breathalyse you. I've never heard such a load of b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. You've all been letting the solitude get to you.'

*I've heard stories about Redall Bay before,' Bob Garth put in. *A lot of the locals reckon it's haunted. If not by the Black Dog then by a whole range of sinister things. You won't catch them going down on the marsh or the beach in the dark. When I was up here the other night I reckoned it felt strange. There was something very funny about all that business at the cottage.'

*The ghosts the locals are afraid of were invented by the smugglers to keep the revenue men away,' the man at the wheel put in. Mat Larkin had lived nearby all his life. *You don't want to believe a word you hear about them.'

*I suppose not.' Joe did not sound too sure. He too was local born and bred.

*Nearly there now.' Mat swung the Land Rover expertly round a slippery bend. The wheels skidded in the wet slush, throwing muddy white spray across the bushes.

*Looks peaceful enough now.' All four men peered through the windscreen at the farmhouse as they drew up outside. Climbing out, both Joe and the doctor instinctively hung back allowing the two policemen to go first. A face at the window showed them that they had been seen. Seconds later the front door opened.

*Come in. Quickly. For G.o.d's sake, look! He's tried to take Susie too!' Cissy, near hysteria, grabbed the doctor's arm.

Joe stood looking down, paralysed with fear as Hal Jamieson knelt and felt the girl's pulse. He pulled up her eyelid and peered at her eye and then laid his hand on her forehead. *She's asleep,' he commented tersely. *Heavily asleep.' He turned to Alison and frowned. His examination this time took longer. He glanced at Diana. *Her temperature is low and her pulse is weak. She's suffering from exhaustion. They should both be in hospital a Good G.o.d! What was that?'

The crash upstairs was louder than any before. They all looked at each other. Greg gestured towards the staircase. *Up there,' he said weakly.

Glancing nervously at one another the policemen disappeared and the others heard their footsteps pounding up the stairs and along the landing.

A few minutes later they returned. *Nothing.' Bob Garth sat down at the kitchen table and felt in his pocket for his notebook. The sooner they had taken statements the sooner they could be on their way. He glanced up with a shiver. There was something nasty here. He could feel it.

Kate talked to him first. As calmly as she could, she related everything that had happened since she had arrived at the cottage, watching as she did so, the doctor examine Greg's foot, rebandage it and nod to himself in apparent satisfaction. He moved on to Cissy.

*And you actually saw this figure?' Bob turned the page on his notebook. His mouth had gone dry. *You are a writer, Miss Kennedy. Are you sure you haven't imagined some of this?'

*No, she b.l.o.o.d.y hasn't!' Greg had been listening. *You heard that bang yourself! Did you imagine that?'

*I think,' Hal Jamieson put in, *that all this is academic at the moment.' He straightened with an exhausted sigh. *What we need to do is to get these people out of here to hospital. Cissy needs an X-ray, Alison should have a CAT scan, in my opinion as soon as possible, and both girls need a complete checkup before I'll be happy with them.'

*We can't take everyone, sir,' Mat Larkin put in.

There was a moment's silence. Kate felt her heart sink. For a moment she had thought it was all over; that they were safe.

*I don't suppose we could get your old banger going, Joe?' Bob Garth put in. *Supposing we give it a jump start.'

Joe nodded. *It's worth a try.' He felt in his pocket for the keys.

Kate gnawed at her fingernail as they waited, looking from one tense face to the other as, through the closed door, they heard the sound of Joe gunning the dead engine. Nothing happened. Again he tried. Again nothing, then they heard the sound of the two bonnets slamming shut. *No go, I'm afraid. The old girl seems to have had it,' Joe said grimly when they were back inside. *I'm sorry.'

*OK. You take the injured to hospital, Mat,' Bob Garth said firmly, overcoming his own reluctance. *I'll stay here to check on the cottage and see about poor Mr Norcross.'

*Yes. You must get us out of here!' Cissy clutched at Larkin's sleeve. *You've got to get us out of here. He's after my daughter a ' Her voice slid up the scale hysterically. *You've got to save us!'

*It's all right, Cissy. We said we'll take you,' Jamieson put in comfortably. *And Diana and the girls. And Greg. That foot is not all that good.'

*And Joe,' Cissy put in, sobbing wildly. Her voice rose dangerously again. *You have to take Joe a '

*I'm not going,' Greg interrupted her. *You said my foot was OK, Hal. It can wait. I'm not leaving Redall. But take Joe. That's fine by me.'

*I'm afraid that's all we can manage,' Mat put in, worried. *The doctor has to come back with us. He's needed elsewhere, and that makes eight of us already a '

*Don't worry.' Kate caught Anne's eye and saw her sister grimace. *We'll be all right. I think it is the two girls who are most at risk. We'll hold him off.'

There was an uncomfortable silence then Bob Garth grinned. *I'll look after you all, Miss Kennedy, don't fret.' He would not allow himself to feel afraid.

They watched as the large police vehicle turned and churned its way up the path into the trees. *You must have been sorry there wasn't room for you.' Greg looked curiously at Pete who had watched them from the window.

Pete shook his head. *I reckon I'll hang around until this is all over. If you and the constable are going out to the cottage I think it would be a good thing if someone stayed here to keep an eye on the boy and the ladies.'

Greg gave a half-hearted humourless laugh. *I think they would consider that remark patronising at the least and s.e.xist more than likely.' He led the way back into the farm house.

*I doubt it, sir.' Bob Garth put in. *Don't forget. We have a murderer on the loose somewhere a '

*Haven't you taken anything in!' Greg swung round on him. *We are not looking for a man a '

*Greg.' Kate put her hand on his arm.

He shook it off angrily. *No! We are not looking for some escaped lunatic or a robber or a psychopath. We are trying to stop a man who died nearly two thousand years ago a '

*Quite, sir.' Bob managed to keep his face impa.s.sive. *But whoever we are looking for, dead or alive, he is still a real threat. I think this gentleman is right. Someone should remain here.'

*Well, I'm going with you.' Kate stepped forward. *I was a close friend of Bill's, and I am the tenant of the cottage. It's right I should be there.'

*And I'm coming too.' Jon put his arm around her once more. *I'm not letting you out of my sight again, Kate.'

She looked up at him startled. Then she smiled. Quietly she reached for his hand. She did not see the anger on Greg's face.

LXXII.

Anne and Pete watched them from the window as the four figures disappeared into the trees. The house was suddenly very still. Anne bit her lip. *Hot drink for us?'